The Smile Behind the Scowl
by Krystine
Summary: Himura Kenjii continues to dwell over that same question, 'Why does everyone love Himura Kenshin?' Kenjii, reaching the age of sixteen, tries to understand his Kaasan's past and enduring difficulties along the with it. Reviews, pwease? ^^


Disclaimer ;; RK doesn't belong to me, and the standards apply. So basically all the character's are not mine...except for Himura Krystine which is only here for this fan fic then goes poof. Yay. And hopefully you won't sue me because this is good advertizement to watch and buy Sony Entertainment/RK involved merchandise and ect.  
  
Rating ;; Rated pg-13 for suggestive languages and questionable situations.  
  
Author's notes ;; I tried to get the ages, and how mature/immature they would seem as accurate as possible. Since I'm still trying to figure out if I've watched everything in the RK series possible, excuse the events that may have/haven't worked in the acutal series. And this is brought to you for your personal enjoyment. And yis, I am selfish, I used my own name for my fanfic...hey its every girl's fantasy to have your name in a story so shuddap. Its my fan fic, also I had to go with the HK "theme". Its Himura Kenshin, Himura Karou (?), Himura Kenjii, and to complete it Himura Krystine.   
  
Chapter 1  
  
I Didn't Understand  
  
I didn't understand. Why did my sister have to be so stubborn? She constantly stared at me with those hybrid eyes, as if inquiring me the same question. It was like she saw through me, although I was older she always seemed to get her way. It was irritating. She was thirteen at the moment, her eyes a mix of violet and sapphire, dark and deep. Unlike our parents she stood tall, about 5'3 at the least and was acutally quite developed. Her slender build supported a training gi that was used by our mother, and the white headband that held her bangs up a few inches made her stunningly pretty, as pretty as a sister gets anyways. She certainly did not look thirteen, nor acted like it. If anything she acted younger than she looked, a bumbling mess of chaos but there was those times. Those times where she seemed to know more than the Kenshin Gumi put together. She gazed past me and softened her eyes. "Kaasan." That one word did it. My body tensed as I heard the steady rythem of sandals against the bamboo floor. My sister always loved her father, I always loved my mother. But...It was like my mother loved her instead. They gave her the attention, even when it came to Megumi or Yahiko, she would always get the spotlight. I was always in the shadow, it was the weed against the flower. The odor against the fragrance. Trash to class.   
  
"Krystine-chan....Kenji." At the sound of my name my body became ridged. Oh how I loathed him, I glanced silently at my sister and if she could be any happier I believe she could have exploded. Her eyes shot with merriment that her god damned father was present. Reclining, putting my weight on the pole that supported the roof, I chose to ignore him and my sister decided to do the same....to me. "Kaasan, do you want help with that? Oh, you buy so much when you go out to the markets I'm afraid one day that you'll fall over." Krystine got up from her position and hurried over to her father to aid him on his journey to the kitchens to store up on more food, chattering amiably about her day. Which was acutally quite boring, but the way she told it was like a dramatic adventure. I still sat. Endorsed in my own thoughts. I didn't understand. What did my sister see in him? What did my mother see in him? What did everyone else see in him? Why did everyone cower up to him, allow him to be the dominate figure in situations? Why couldn't they just...just...see the truth in him? It infurated me, wished there was times that they would see it my way. But how was that possible? No one paid enough attention to me for me to get a single sentence out, let alone share my thoughts with someone. I didn't understand.  
  
"Oy, Kenji. Your beginning to look like Aoshi." I looked upward to find myself gazing into warm crimson brown eyes of a broad-shouldered man. Yahiko grinned good-naturally and accompained me on the bench. I was slightly taken aback, Yahiko was back from his trip? So soon? I opened my mouth to make a statement of it but he waved it away carelessly before any words escaped. "It was boring in Kyoto, and Misao annoyed the hell out of me. Wanted to get back to Tokyo before she spasmed and died in front of me. You would think that Aoshi would keep her in check." I closed my mouth quickly, Misao and Aoshi was a very touchy subject for some people...like my father. They made that couply image that makes you think what the hell were they thinking marrying each other? I glanced at Yahiko and tried to cover up tense look putting half a smile on my face. I looked at him, expecting more, knowing that probably wasn't the true reason why the male had came back. Although Yahiko wasn't my flesh and blood, I was expected to act as though he was my brother. He was about twice my age, and had been with my family since he was about ten years so naturally he worshipped my father from the ground he walked upon. Everyone that had been with him constantly told him that he looked stunningly like Sanosuke, which he brushed off with "That rooster? Hah, I doubt it." I never knew Sagra Sanosuke although everyone else did. It was a curse, being the produce of Himura Kenshin and Karou; there were stories untold, everyone knew everything that I didn't. I knew many stories that he never saw, by heart I must explain.  
  
"So whats up?" A genuine voice spoke casually, I shifted my body to look at him fully. He had no idea how much my father was a dope.... "What do you see in him?" Curse my abnormally large mouth. The spike-haired one returned the stare, his brow furrowed in curiousity.  
  
  
  
"See in who?"  
  
  
  
"Him."  
  
  
  
"Be specific Kenji."  
  
  
  
"My father."  
  
  
  
"What do I see in your father?"  
  
  
  
"Hai."  
  
Yahiko casted his gaze upward, to look at the clear blue sky above. It was such a warm day, the light azure feeling enveloped me and it was comfortably heated. A soft breeze brought content to the scenario but I couldn't help but to feel distracted, waiting for an answer. "I see serenity that masks troubling fire that boils beneath him. I see a boy that was taken away from his innocence as quick as the wind. I see innocence wrapped in hate." I stared at him. "What the hell type of answer is that?" I muttered angrily beneath my breath but as soon as that escaped me pain coursed through my head. I turned, my hand coming in contact with the spot where Yahiko punched my head to massage it. "OW! What was that for?" He snorted and got up, wiping the dust from his pants. "For being a brat, thats what it was for Kenji-chan." I sat back against the post again, I didn't care if anyone thought I was sulking, I was not a brat, and I was definately not young enough to add the chan honorific onto. I snuck a glare at the kendo master and to my fury he was smirking, his body holding back a laugh. I casted my glare away. Damn him. Damn him fifteen times over. The burgendy haired man gave a short laugh, goodnatured like the rest of him. "You'll understand when you get older." I clenched my teeth. 'Go to hell Yahiko.' I thought to myself, he should have known that I hated that phrase. It was the one phrase that He always said with that god damned smile. Always the same stories, following by that phrase. I cursed that phrase, along with Yahiko.   
  
I cursed my appearance as well, I couldn't have inherited my mother's black hair. No, I couldn't have taken on my mother's nature. I had to adapt off of Him. Although I was tall, unlike my father, I wasn't strongly built like Yahiko. Instead I had this sickly thin appearance that could topple over itself, reaching at about 5'11 considering my age was sixteen. I had soft features, delicate, like a woman's. Kuso, my father was a woman in so many ways. Although my hair was darker thanks to the ebony shade my mother possessed, it was still in the same ruby red category as my Kaasan's. Violet eyes, muscled but not enough to be considered strong, the only thing amiss was that I didn't hold the cross-shaped scar on my left cheek. I tried to venture on how he got it, how maybe he perhaps got it in heroic battle with a villian saving Japan...Oy I was nearly five, I have excuses. But when I asked him he got that clouded look in his eyes and said that phrase...well not that precise phrase but it was close! He closed his amethyst eyes and recited "I'll maybe tell you another day...when your older." Kuso! Thats right, I was mad at Yahiko!  
  
I turned to give him a whiplash retort but to my surprise he was gone. Damn him. He must have went inside to annouce his presence and to fawn over my weakling father. Sure enough muffled voices were toned with excitment and chaos seemed to unfold as I could hear my sister exclaim a party had to start in honor of the company. Many agreed sounds and I snorted. Whatever, they can do whatever they want personally I wouldn't have minded to have gone back to Kyoto...anywhere but here. I smiled softly, no doubt Krystine would have whipped out her excellent cooking skills and entered the zone where no one could enter the kitchen after a certain accident with my mother. None of us knew where that child got her cooking considering my father was only good at soups and my mother wasn't good at all. I personally found my thumb green when it came to the subject yet Krys-chan knew her ways.  
  
Sighing with a soft lingering feeling enveloping my body my smile grew and I decided to leave behind my scowls and try to forget my father, just for tonight. Yahiko was home and my sister was cooking, maybe I would have fun. That was before I knew, knew what was in store next. 


End file.
